


Sweet Sweet Ride

by helens78



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T, Community: random_fic_is_random, M/M, Vehicles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-28
Updated: 2009-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the full knowledge that Eric has a great love for muscle cars, Karl calls up a friend of his and asks to borrow her 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T. Eric is very, very grateful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Sweet Ride

**Author's Note:**

> For Dreamwidth's random_fic_is_random, the mix-and-match challenge; I picked out Karl Urban / Eric Bana / 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T from the lists. :) Also, for reference, [this is a Dodge Challenger R/T from the right era](http://www.seriouswheels.com/cars/1970-1979/top-1971-Dodge-Challenger-RT-Muscle-Car-By-Modern-Muscle.htm) \-- it's a '71 and not a '70, but it's close enough.

"Oh," Eric says faintly, running his hand over one smooth curve after another. "Oh, God--Karl--I--_oh_."

"Like that, do you?" Karl asks, grinning. He slides his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. "Borrowed her from a friend."

"You have the best friends," Eric says, and he sounds so fervent Karl just has to laugh at him. It's fun watching a man turn to absolute jelly over a two-ton piece of steel, and the minute he found out about Eric's affinity for muscle cars, he had to make the call. Zoë warned him there'll be fire, death, and maiming if he brings back her car with so much as a ding, but he thinks it's worth the risk.

He holds up the keys and gives them a little shake. Eric's head snaps up, mouth curved into a perfect round "O". "What'll you give me if I let you drive her?" Karl asks.

"Anything you want?"

"That's the right answer." Karl tosses him the keys and goes around to the passenger side, sliding in and buckling his seatbelt. Eric takes his time getting into the car, as if he's trying to memorize the feel of the leather seat against his skin.

"God, it's beautiful," Eric murmurs. He slides the key into the ignition and starts it up; it comes to life with a roar and then a purr, and he trails his fingers over the steering wheel, then drops one hand to the gearshift. He looks over at Karl. "You think I can push it?"

_I think if you scratch it, you're answering to Zoë and not me_, Karl thinks, but he nods out at the road. "Give her the gas, mate. She's not just here for show."

They take off down the road, and in spite of the fact that he's never been behind the wheel of this particular model of car before, Eric's got her moving like a big, graceful cat--a white tiger, maybe, because this is a white muscle car with black racing stripes down the front. It's a 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T, a car Zoë picked up after filming _Death Proof_, and watching Eric drive it is almost as good as watching Zoë do it. The only real question is whether it's going to be every bit as interesting getting somewhere off the beaten path; Karl thinks the answer's yes.

He waits until Eric's got them in third gear, then slides his hand over to Eric's wrist, fingers moving back and forth--petting as much as anything. Eric puts his teeth together and sucks in a breath. "Sorry," Karl says. He knows he doesn't sound any sorrier than he actually is. "Am I distracting you?"

"Yeah," Eric mumbles. "God, this thing handles like a dream. I think I could make her climb a wall if I asked her nicely enough."

"I'm a hell of a lot more interested in getting _you_ to climb a wall or two," Karl says, grinning, sliding his fingertips up the underside of Eric's arm. Eric squeezes the gearshift hard, but the car doesn't jerk or anything; he's got it under control. _Nice_, Karl thinks.

There's a side road coming up, and he points left. "Turn off here," he says. Eric doesn't question him; he lets Karl guide him out into a secluded area, past a few abandoned old buildings, into the parking lot of some horrific building, restaurant maybe, with a narrow, angular roof.

Eric pulls carefully to a halt and cuts the engine; he pushes the pedal for the parking brake, and Karl wonders if it's just to have an excuse to push another lever in this thing. He's guessing it is. Eric exhales softly and looks over at Karl. "Thank you," he says softly.

Karl laughs. "You call that a thank you? C'mere."

Eric grins that _aw-shucks_ fake-shy grin of his and snaps off his seatbelt; he slides closer to Karl, and Karl gets his own seatbelt off and shakes his head.

"Out of the car. Goddamned bucket seats--there's a special place in hell for whoever invented these..."

This time it's Eric laughing, and he climbs out of the car along with Karl. Karl climbs up on the hood and snaps the top button of his jeans open. "Ask nice," he says, grinning.

"Oh, God, yeah, please?" Eric puts his hands on Karl's knees and pushes them apart; Karl reaches into his jeans and gets his cock out, wrapping his fingers around it nice and tight and giving it a few quick, solid strokes. Eric licks his lips, and Karl snaps his fingers and points at the ground.

"Down."

Eric goes; Karl scoots to the edge of the hood and curls his hands around the front lip. He nods down at Eric. "Go for it."

No hesitation. Eric grabs Karl by the hips and slides his mouth over Karl's cock, sucking hard and fast and making Karl grip the hell out of the lip. He waits, though, waits until Eric gets up a rhythm before reaching down and getting a hand into his hair. "That's it," he murmurs. "Good. Just like that--now a little deeper--"

He pulls Eric's head forward with every thrust, giving him another fraction of an inch of encouragement. Eric starts to choke at first, but he pushes past it, opening his mouth a little wider, pushing his head down a little harder. Eric's determined to learn how to do this, how to take every inch Karl's got without needing to stop or think about air, and Karl's more than happy to help him. He thrusts his hips forward as Eric takes him _nearly_ all the way down.

"Almost," he growls. "Almost got it. You want more?"

Eric squeezes the front of Karl's thigh and tries to drag himself forward; that's a 'yes' as far as Karl's concerned. Karl tightens his grip in Eric's hair and shoves in deeper, then pulls back and does it again. Eric gags, but he gets his hands onto the backs of Karl's thighs and keeps forcing himself forward, keeps going past the gag reflex.

And then Karl's all the way in, Eric's throat tight around the head of his cock, Eric's chin pressed against Karl's zipper, and Karl groans, carding both his hands through Eric's hair. "Holy fucking _God_, Eric," he pants. "You've got it. You've got it all. Jesus, you look good like that."

Eric yanks himself back, all the way back, coughing and trying to get his breath. Karl lets him go immediately, but Eric takes a good solid breath and pushes forward again, this time just going down halfway. His tongue makes up for it, though; he rubs and licks and presses up against just the right spot, and Karl grunts, dropping his hands to Eric's shoulders and holding on as he comes, as Eric coaxes the last few jets out of him and then licks at the tip of Karl's cock until Karl's shuddering.

"There," Eric says; he doesn't sound too hoarse. Just as well. He comes to his feet and wraps his arms around Karl's waist. "Even kept the upholstery clean."

Karl grins at him. He nips at the tip of Eric's nose; Eric pulls back, smiling. "Two choices," Karl says. "Handjob now, or you can fuck me when we get back home."

"You say that like it's a tough call..."

Karl raps his knuckles on the hood; Eric's voice trails off. Karl laughs. "Up to you."

"I almost don't want to spoil it like that," Eric murmurs. He runs his hand back and forth over the hood. "And I _do_ want to fuck you. Let's go home."

_-end-_


End file.
